


Ordinary Life

by sister_wolf



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-03
Updated: 2005-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the world's greatest heroes have an entirely ordinary afternoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ordinary Life

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://users.livejournal.com/__marcelo/profile)[**__marcelo**](http://users.livejournal.com/__marcelo/) mentioned that Clark, Lois, Bruce, and Diana would make a lovely insane sitcom. Which is by no means to say that this is his _fault_ , of course.

"You're sure you don't want to come along?" Lois asked, balancing on one foot as she slid her strappy high heels on. Clark had never figured out, in all their years together, how she managed to walk, much less run, in three inch heels. Just one of those mysteries of life, he guessed.

Clark smiled up at her from his seat on the sofa, admiring the way that the deep maroon of her suit brought out the subtle red highlights in her hair. "Nope. We're just gonna hang out and watch the game, like regular guys. Bruce even brought beer."

Lois grimaced. "Not _real_ beer."

Bruce emerged from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of creepy-looking green stuff. "Not up to your high standards, Ms. Lane?"

"Nah, I'm more of a Pabst girl, myself," Lois said, making a face at Bruce. Clark grinned. Yep, that was his Lois. Stretching his legs out comfortably, Clark took another careful sip of the weird 'ginger beer' Bruce had brought over. It was kind of spicy and strange-tasting, but it was growing on him. Unlike the not-potato chips, which were... really nothing at all like potato chips. He should have known better than to let Bruce pick up the munchies.

"This game makes no sense," Diana said scornfully. She'd been quietly glaring at the baseball game playing, muted, on the big-screen TV. "They wield their clubs inefficiently. They would be better served by sharpening--"

"Hey, shouldn't you be heading out? You don't want to be late," Clark interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of the lecture. He'd heard variations on it entirely too many times before. One time, Wally got her started on a rant about that broom game they played at the Winter Olympics these days... Clark shuddered at the memory. She'd kept going for _hours_.

"We must not be late," Diana pronounced. "I'm eager to experience tea with your leader's consort. Are you certain that you do not wish to join us?"

Bruce winced almost imperceptibly. "I'm certain. And, Diana--"

Diana raised an imperious brow. "Yes?"

"Just-- try not to refer to her as a consort," Bruce said diplomatically.

Lois leaned over the back of the couch and Clark tipped back his head for a goodbye kiss. "Have fun," she said, managing to express doubt, humor, and affection, with a side of _do try not to destroy Metropolis while I'm gone_ , with a few quirks of her eyebrows and a wry glance in Bruce's direction.

"You too, hon." Clark kissed her again, then tried a little meaningful eyebrow wiggling of his own. Lois gave him a skeptical, amused look before heading to the door in a jangle of purse, keys, cellphone, PDA, and whatever else she'd decided she needed to bring along for tea at the White House.

"Explain to me again," Diana ordered, following Lois to the door. "Why is it that your leader's consort holds no political power of her own?"

"Have fun storming the Rose Garden," Clark called after them on impulse, in a faux-New York accent.

Bruce looked up from his bizarre-looking bowl of green-- were those peas? Lima beans? "Think they'll manage not to start an international incident?" His imitation of a New York accent was absolutely flawless, of course.

Clark blinked at him. Bruce had just made a joke. Sure, it was kind of a _weak_ joke, but it was a joke. Based on knowledge of a comedy, even. "It'd take a miracle."

"Bye-bye!" they said simultaneously, Clark waving cheerfully, Bruce looking as stoic as ever.

Still standing with her hand on the doorknob, Lois shook her head slowly, obviously fighting not to laugh. "Don't quit your day jobs, gentlemen. I'm really not seeing standup comedy in your future." She glanced at her watch and made the familiar we're-about-to-be-late face. "We'll be back in a few hours. Behave!"

"Yes, dear," Clark called out as the door closed behind the two women. "So," he asked, squinting curiously at Bruce. "How do _you_ know The Princess Bride?"

Bruce looked inscrutable. "The kids. It was Dick's girlfriend's favorite movie one summer. I've seen it at least half a dozen times." He paused for a moment, then looking amused in a very Batman-ish manner, he asked, "So, how do _you_ know that movie, Clark?"

Clark tried not to blush. If Bruce found out it was his favorite movie, he'd never hear the end of the teasing. Subtle, pointed Bat-style teasing-- the kind that could go on for _years_. "Lois really likes it," he blurted.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "She has good taste," he said mildly, turning back toward the television.

Clark shook his head, smiling. Just when he thought he had him pegged, Bruce could always be counted on to surprise him again.

And so, armed with ginger beer, edamame, and organic sweet potato chips (this was definitely the _last_ time Clark was letting Bruce pick up the munchies), the world's greatest heroes settled in to watch the game.


End file.
